


No more of that

by RocioWrites



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocioWrites/pseuds/RocioWrites
Summary: “Someone’s being overprotective.” He mumbles, acknowledging that the women are completely unaware of their chat.“It’s hard to get used to the idea that death is closer.” Joe comments. His voice is steady but his eyes are so sincere, always, they tell a different story. They gleam with emotion, feelings stuck in his chest and throat.It makes him wonder how many times Joe has watched Nicky die and feared with every atom of his body that this will be the last time, this time Nicky won’t reopen his eyes.He wonders…“Have you ever talked with Nicky what will the other do if one of you dies?” Fuck. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He says immediately. “We’re not… we aren’t…”This friendly yet, he thinks about saying that. “Too personal, I’m overstepping, really, I’m sorry.”Joe puts the sketchbook down on the floor, at one side so hopefully he won’t trip over it. He does the same with his book, noiselessly, hoping Andy and Quynh will keep each other busy.“We have.” Joe answers.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	No more of that

**Author's Note:**

> I still have TOG feels. Also, you will pry Joe and Booker friendship only from my cold dead hands, ha!

As with most things, he doesn’t deserve this.

His wife and sons deserved a better man, someone who wasn’t a criminal and ended up fighting a war he didn’t understand, someone who deserted either way. He didn’t deserve immortality, he’s been left jaded and inconsolable, he has never known what to do with such a gift – and he calls it a gift now only because he sees what they’ve done with their centuries thanks to Andy, Joe and Nicky’s impetus. Nile’s impetus now. Copley had made him see his board before asking him to help taking it down, erase this too as he’s supposed to erase them from the public view. He didn’t deserve Copley’s friendship but James is a good man, damaged a bit like him but infinitely wiser in some aspects; that’s how he sees it at least.

He didn’t deserve Quynh’s empathy either. She showed up, all anger and trauma, and he was a drunk helpless excuse of a man. God, he wished for a moment there that she’d be so unhinged to actually kill him until it was the end for good. Until he stayed dead, finally dead. She didn’t, she was merciful, she was savagely honest and sage. She didn’t spare her comebacks, the chagrin obvious on her face and words at every step. She did punch him, once, but it was more than enough. She wanted her family, _her Andromache_.

She got it. It wasn’t easy, both Andy and Quynh had a lot of things to discuss, gilt and grieve and a hatred the cruel world instilled in them. Nothing of that could beat the love they have, it was a matter of time. Thankfully for them, it didn’t take that long, a true feat all things considered.

Sébastien believes the process has been actually sped up because of Andy’s mortality. But who could blame them? Nothing short of a miracle reunited them after what, 500 years or so? And now one of them has their fate sealed, an expiry date picked yet uncertain. So they love each other for the remainder of their lives. It’s perfect.

They rejoice on this family they’ve formed, because of course they made this of their own volition. Andy and Quynh decided to herd all the immortals and keep them. Make no mistakes, even if they use terms as army and warriors, they’re family.

And by everything sacred, he doesn’t deserve to be back here. In the warmth of their familiarity. Sharing Andy’s last years. And _then_ , Andy had punched him and ordered him to earn his place back. She smiled, like he won some back by directing Quynh at them, which is ridiculous, he didn’t do anything of value – he just spilled his tragedy like an overused meaningless speech, allowed her to tell him every stupid thing he did back at him. He contacted Copley for them to reunite and under cruelly merciful eyes, Quynh asked him to go with her.

He thought they’d kick him out. They should have done that by all accounts. They didn’t. Sébastien didn’t deserve this kindness either.

Now he’s here, sober and in some sort of help group for widowers with Copley. He’s here having deep conversations with Nile about their biological families and the mourning they go through. He’s slowly apologizing to everyone but especially to Joe and Nicky, he’s keeping his distance from anything job-related, submitting absolutely to Andy and Copley in this regard.

Now he’s sitting on a lousy couch in the middle of nowhere, a safe house only Andy and Quynh know about and remember, pretending to read a book and watching Quynh fuss over Andy’s cheap beer. They’re sitting on the floor, propped against the wall. They’re sickeningly sweet, speaking in hushed tones, bantering and exchanging kisses. So engrossed in each other, they don’t notice Joe stepping into the room.

However, he does notice. He says nothing, a nod as greeting and watches Joe examine around, not bothering to even try to draw the women’s attention. Nodding back, he sits by his side, the battered thing creaking loudly at the extra weight. It makes the other two look up for a moment and share a look with Joe, and that’s it.

Joe has his sketchbook and pencil in hand, looking loose-limbed and comfortable in his own skin. Something he envies a lot. The itch and ache from lack of alcohol hasn’t disappeared yet and even knowing this is the right thing for him, it can become unbearable. The raspy sound of graphite against paper makes him clench his teeth for a brief second until he gets used to it enough as to ignore it, it’s low and dull and obeys Joe’s hand’s movements.

In another time, Sébastien would tease Joe about his skills. Oh he so hopes Nile’s has made the draw me like one of your French girls joke at some point. What? He likes the movie, so sue him. He closes his book and bites the inside of his cheek to suppress the smile. It must be unsuccessful since Joe frowns and inspects him. He can tell Joe isn’t frowning in an honestly angry manner so he guesses it’s alright. He doesn’t offer what made him smile though and Joe goes back to his task without pressing for clarification.

“Nicky and Nile?” He asks instead.

They both half listen to Quynh complaining that Andy keeps drinking that beer. It isn’t even cold anymore and even buried alive under water for literal centuries, she knows beers are supposed to be drunk really cold. Sébastien blames all the TV shows she’s been consuming lately for every petulant comment on modern culture she makes.

“They went out, to train.” A pause. “I’m a bit mad I wasn’t invited.” But he’s joking.

And yes, he doesn’t deserve this either. Joe at his side, lightly talking to him. Sébastien isn’t an idiot, he knows they aren’t good just yet, but they’re getting there independently of the fact that he doesn’t deserve it. Joe has a heart of gold, he’s the best of them probably. He’s absolutely rabid in the face of his betrayal, there’s no doubt about that, but it’s also clear that Joe is inclined to forgive him if Sébastien keeps getting better himself.

How strange they don’t want revenge on him, that was never it. They want to trust him, they want him to be able to function, to be kind to others and kind to himself. What a concept, it revolutionized him hearing Copley and Quynh saying something like this. Along this same line, they want to heal just as much as they want for him to heal as well.

Andy is batting Quynh’s hands away, proclaiming she can drink the whole can either way, to stop pestering her, mortal people do that all the time and _no one dies_ because their beer warmed up. Quynh tuts, offended.

“Someone’s being overprotective.” He mumbles, acknowledging the women are completely unaware of their chat.

Joe stops drawing. Looks at them, the way Andy smiles wide and honest and Quynh, not a ghost or a remembrance, bone and flesh here, tilts her head and kisses her cheek, refusing to go for the lips because she hates the taste of beer. Both happy and so alive, in a way they weren’t before but exactly the same at the same time.

“It’s hard to get used to the idea that death is closer.” Joe comments. His voice is steady but his eyes are so sincere, always, they tell a different story. They gleam with emotion, feelings stuck in his chest and throat.

It makes him wonder how many times Joe has watched Nicky die and feared with every atom of his body that this will be the last time, this time Nicky won’t reopen his eyes. And Joe might as well be dead too for all the world has to offer without Nicky. Thinking about this only leads to distress, and the obvious conclusion that Sébastien is an utter mess, he contributed to their worst fear, misguided by his own grief of course, but what does that even matter? When he hurt the only family that can accompany him in his misery.

He wonders…

“Have you ever talked with Nicky what will the other do if one of you dies?”

 _Fuck_.

His eyes widen, hands flexing and gripping his book with more strength than it’s appropriate. He didn’t mean that. To be honest, he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Joe’s eyes are on him, cloudy and furious for a second.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He says immediately. “We’re not… we aren’t…” _This friendly yet_ , he thinks about saying that. “Too personal, I’m overstepping, really, I’m sorry.”

He’s as transparent as crystal clear water right now. He’s terrified and scared. He probably ruined the smooth progression they’ve been having. And he knows it’s hard work, he knows he’s working twice as hard trying to earn his place back in Nicky’s eyes. So yes, of course he goes and asks something insensitive as if he had any right. A complete disaster.

Joe puts the sketchbook down on the floor, at one side so hopefully he won’t trip over it. He does the same with his book, noiselessly, hoping Andy and Quynh will keep each oterh busy.

“We have.” Joe answers.

It’s an arrow through the heart. A part of him can’t believe destiny would be so mad and cruel to do that to them, but then again this world isn’t exactly fair and it’d be naive to expect the best outcome no matter what. There’s no faith powerful enough to contain the despair of separating them like that.

He swallows against the sudden lump in his throat, mouth dry. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Joe. Really, I just asked without thinking and…”

And that’s exactly what put them on the spot, doing things without thinking. Childish of him.

“I know. I’m never obliged to speak to you or indulge you. I do because against my and Nicolò’s better judgment, I still care about you. I do consider you my brother.”

It’d be easier if Joe hit him or shot him or something more viciously violent. This honesty and love? It’s hard to deal with, he doesn’t deserve it.

“You’re my brother too, even if I’m an asshole.” He manages to whisper, cracked beyond repair. He closes his eyes, the image of Joe’s serious expression haunting him. If some tears slip away, they don’t bring it up. “I don’t deserve this family.” It’s the tiniest of murmurs, Joe has a good ear though.

“Ah, it isn’t about deserving, Booker.” Well, it’s obvious it isn’t but it should. “If that were the case none of us would be here now.” He snaps his eyes open. Joe seems passively content, a knee over the other, a hand on the back of the couch. Sébastien for his part is a live wire, charged and tense. “Have you any idea how many people we’ve killed, bad and innocent alike? And all the wrong causes we fought for because we didn’t know better? Even before being immortals. Do you think there’s someone out there who’s completely and utterly good and deserving?”

That… is a side of things he hasn’t considered. It’s a moot point nonetheless, they’ve done wrong things through the centuries because they didn’t know everything, knowing everything’s impossible, but they’ve tried their best to do good, to be on the right side of things.

“There must be.” He’s probably clinging to this idea based on self-hatred and low self-esteem. God, the voice in his head saying that sounds suspiciously like Copley. “Nile.” He tries, a last resort. It’s half a joke, half desperation trying to make sense.

Joe chuckles. “I love Nile, yes. Talk to her about the US military now. She was part of that, and they aren’t the good guys, we all know it.” He opens his mouth to protest and Joe stops him with a hand raised. “I’m not judging. Or saying she’s evil.” He shuts his mouth. “What I am saying is that we’re good, yes, but no one is exempt of having done the wrong thing here and again. What I’m saying is that thinking in terms of deserving good things only if you’re perfect is ridiculous, no one is perfect. Not even Nile or me, although I confess we’re probably the closest thing.” At the end, Joe winks.

Sébastien is speechless. Something tells him that Joe’s right. The biggest part of his brain is still a pity party for himself.

“I’ll give it a thought. Thank you.”

Quynh starts laughing, bold and endeared at something Andy just said. They have no idea Joe has tilted his world upside down with a few sentences. A true artist, a true poet. He thinks maybe someone has brought a similar point to him, it surely was Copley and his self-help library. He didn't pick it up until now.

Joe is a tactile person, when his hand lands on his shoulder Sébastien doesn’t flinch, he isn’t scared he’d be hurt. He stays as still as he can, committing the softness to memory, the camaraderie.

“I will tell you what I told Nicky.” Joe starts and some unidentified emotion roams wildly on his chest at that, throwing itself against his ribs as if wanting to escape; he wonders if it’s his heart. “If I die and you’re still here, I am sorry. Mostly, I want you to grieve my loss and keep living, remembering me for who I am to you, for the good things I brought in you. I’m selfish enough to believe you’ll overlook the bad parts of our narrative, stick to the good bits. Live as if I’m still here. There’s no deserving this or that, Book, there’s only forward.”

He’s positively tearing up now. He hopes it isn’t that evident. The tenderness in Joe’s smile lets him know he is in fact very obvious.

“You didn’t tell that last part to Nicky, I heard my name in there.” He says, flayed and in need of a drink he won’t have.

Joe stands up, winks at him and picks up his sketchbook. “Believe what you will.” It makes him give a watery laugh. “For my part I won’t say you deserve suffering or we deserve happiness. I will say, however, you can choose your direction and I think now you’re going in the right way.”

“Tell Nicky that, see if he forgives me.” It’s an automatic reaction, another one of those things he doesn’t think through. Joe doesn’t look offended. “Not that he has to, I know I fucked up. Big time.” He sighs.

“Lucky for you, Nicky is most severe with himself. So I think he has a better tolerance for others’ mistakes. Like I said, you’re in the right path, keep putting effort.”

Andy stands up, offers a hand to Quynh. Suddenly he starts worrying they weren’t as distracted as he thought. Were they paying attention all the while?

“Going out for a walk.” Quynh calls, pleased that the can of beer is abandoned half full still.

They see them go. His chest feels tight and light in tandem, a mental note to ask Copley for some of his self-help books and see if he can find one that speaks as Joe does to him. Unlikely but it’s worth a shot he guesses.

“I’ll keep giving my best effort to earn back the trust you put in me. All of you.”

“That’s all we ask, it’s a matter of time then. Some space and time and things will be mended.” Sébastien is not sure if he believes it too, but he wants to. “And please, no more of that nonsense of not deserving.” He gapes like a fish out of water, he can’t promise that, he’s still stuck in that stage. Joe shakes his head. “With that, you will do better speaking about it with Nicolò. That idiotic idea of not deserving good things and guilt go hand in hand, surely you can have some depressing chat.” Joe laughs at his own irreverence and it leaves him completely disorientated.

Like in a dream, he watches himself try to school his expression, caught between a grimace and shock. Joe gives him an amused grin and turns around, waving his free hand, probably in search of a better spot to draw. He feels like he is in an out of body experience. That beastly thing squeezing his heart punishingly.

“I’ll make sure to ask him about it the next time he actually directs a look or word my way.” He comments to no one in particular. “I wish I could have a drink.” This, to the empty room that won’t judge him.

He doesn’t deserve Joe. The idea that Nicky might think something similar leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

The noises in the kitchen announce that Joe is actually starting dinner. As if on cue, voices and steps begin to approach. Nile is explaining something in an excited voice, he can tell. Nicky injects a question here and there and it spirals into another explanation. It’s cute to be honest, how he pays attention and Nile reciprocates the patience they have with her this way.

Sébastien goes back to pretending to read his book, decidedly keeping his conversation with Joe to himself. He listens to the others joining Joe in the kitchen, happy and tired; Joe asks about the training, gladly informs them of his planned meal and he doesn’t seem to be about to divulge their conversation either.

It doesn’t tame that anxiety monster in him, the old time ache claiming for alcohol and self-pity.

He doesn’t deserve this family, but maybe, just maybe Joe is onto something and he should start thinking about this in other terms. He will ask Nicky about it if the time comes.


End file.
